A Day In The Life Of Scorpius Malfoy
by JustAudrey07
Summary: Scorpius spends a happy day in Diagon Alley with his father, and makes a pretty new friend while left alone at Florish and Blotts. S/R short story.
1. Chapter 1

A Day In The Life of Scorpius Malfoy

The sunlight peaked in slowly through the thick glass window of the large modern manor. The sky was still gray and heavy from last night's rain, but the faint rays that fell upon his terrace window cushions gave signs that a sunny day was yet to come. He hoped so anyways, he'd been looking forward to this day all week.

Closing the dark curtains that covered his windows, Scorpius Malfoy took a look across his bedroom. It was a large yet warm chamber, with a comfortable canopy bed, a big oak trunk packed with toys, and the shelves full of books. The floor was tidy, part in due to the house-elves scrupulous cleaning, but also because his mother made sure he picked up after himself. This was a point that she had stood firm on all of his life, one which no amount of whining or charming had been able to get him out of. Now, less than two months shy of being ten, he rather liked to keep things clean, and now did so without being told.

The one thing that stood out of place in his room was the paperback novel that lay open on the floor. It was an old, shabby copy of a Muggle tale called _Treasure Island_. It was his favorite book, full of adventure and pirates. He rather liked pirates, though some of his friends gently hinted that perhaps he was getting a bit old for them. His friends always only gently hinted things towards him. He was a Malfoy after all, and not to be trifled with.

He picked the book up slowly and gently smoothed out the pages. He didn't care if he was getting too old for pirates; he had loved them ever since he could remember. In fact, getting this book was one of the first memories he ever had…

_He was four years old, sitting in a smelly old chair in the elaborately furnished living room. Everything in Grandfather Lucius' house was elaborate. Smelly and old too come to think of it. He was sitting across from his Grandmother Cissy, who watched him silently. Something on her face made it look like she was about to cry, and Scorpius wanted to climb over, pat her head, and tell her it would be alright, just like his mother had when he had fallen off his broomstick the day before. But he didn't know his Grandmother very well, and his father had insisted that he stay put. So he sat upright, using his pack of crayons to draw ships on the open sea. _

_He had sat there for ages, and had quite forgotten that he was waiting for his dad and grandfather to talk. But suddenly the doors to the parlor swung open, with his father walking quickly through. He did not seem very happy._

"_Draco, you come back here this instant!" his grandfather demanded, coming through the doors. Scorpius never could help flinching when he heard that voice. It was the voice his father used when he was very unhappy or when scolding Scorpius for something that he had done wrong. Only his grandfather used it all the time. _

_His father ignored the call, and walked straight over to him. He bent over to pick Scorpius up and placed him firmly on his hip. The drawing Scorpius had spent the afternoon working on fluttered to the floor. He started squirming, despite to get his paper back. His father shushed him softly and picked it back up, handing it to his son gently before placing a light kiss on his forehead for further reassurance. _

"_Do as I say, Draco! I'm not finished with you yet!" Grandfather Lucius hissed._

"_Yes, you are father. Or else I'm done with you! I will not stand by and listen to you talk about my wife and son that way any longer, or try and fill my head with anymore of your useless ancient rubbish!" _

_Scorpius flinched again, as his father yelled in the same, icy voice to his grandfather. Without another word, his father marched the two of them out of the Malfoy Manor, and determinedly through the grounds. That was the first, and last, time he ever saw his grandparents' house._

_As soon as they were off the property, his father Apparated them to a busy street in downtown London. After checking to ensure Scorpius wasn't sick after the journey, he placed him down on his feet, grabbing his hand as they marched down the bustling streets. Scorpius had never been to this part of town, but his normal curiosity was focused on the upset look on his father's face._

"_Dad, are you and Grandfather rowing?" Scorpius asked after a few moments of silence._

"_Yes, Scorpius. Unfortunately we are," his father replied stoically._

"_Can't you go back and make up? You and Mummy always make up after your fights," Scorpius suggested helpfully. His father stopped and sighed._

"_This isn't like when your Mum and I argue over who ate the last scone," he explained, picking the pace back up. "Your Grandfather is an incredibly difficult man, and there are a lot of things we no longer see eye to eye on. Things that can no longer be over looked."_

"_Oh," Scorpius replied softly. "What kind of things, Dad?"_

_His father once again stopped in his stead. _

"_Grown up things," he answered lamely._

"_What kind of grown up things?" Draco looked intently at his son, and, knowing his hard pressed curiosity could not be so easily satiated, decided to give in. A little._

"_Son, do you know what a Muggle is?" he asked._

"_A Muggle? I don't think so," Scorpius replied._

"_Muggles are people… like you and I… only they can't do magic," he father explained slowly._

"_There are people who can't do magic?" Scorpius exclaimed loudly, shocked at hearing such a thing. His father motioned for him to keep quiet before continuing._

"_Yes, they can't do magic. But…er… you shouldn't hold that against them," his father said firmly, though something in his tone sounded painful._

"_Okay," Scorpius replied, though he still was quite confused._

"_Look," his father expressed desperately, stopping in front of one of the giant buildings labeled Barnes & Nobles. "You like pirates right? Well, Muggles are experts on pirates. Here, I'll show you…"_

It was a strange first memory to have. A tad depressing upon reflection, yet one he was somewhat particularly fond of, especially as he grew older and learned more about his family's history. He smiled at the still picture of Long John Silver that graced the cover. He had quite a soft spot for the old devil and his moral ambiguity. Placing the book back securely on his night stand, he checked his clock.

"That should be enough of a lie in, I expect," he said to himself, a mischievous grin forming on his face. He walked quietly and quickly out of his room, and made his way speedily down the long hallway. Oil lamps lit brightly as he passed, showing off the cheery and familiar character of his house. He slowed his steps as he reached the large oak door at the end of the corridor, and expertly opened the door silently.

His parents' chambers were larger than his, with a massive bed placed right in the middle. Despite its enormous size however, Scorpius always came in to find his parents sleeping the same way: right in the middle, with his Dad's arm tucked around his Mum's waist. Scorpius' grin returned to his face. They always made it so easy.

"Cannon ball!" he cried in warning, as he ran the length of their room and leapt on to their bed. His parents had just enough time to jerk awake and roll over, giving Scorpius clear room to land. His mother kept her back to him, knowing that at this hour on this particular day his interest lay with her husband. Indeed, Scorpius rolled over on to his father, ignoring his groans of protests.

"Hiya, Pops. You miss me on your business trip?" Scorpius asked brightly.

"Constantly," he responded through a yawn. His dad finally opened his eyes to see his son practically straddling him.

"Aren't you a little old to be jumping into bed with your parents?" his father asked, pushing him away gently. Scorpius laughed.

"Aren't you a little young to need a comb over?" Scorpius jested in return, running his hands through his father's receding hairline. Draco looked at him irately for a moment before flipping him over and catching him in a tight headlock.

"Aye, Dad! You're killing me!" Scorpius squealed. "Me, your only son and heir!"

"I can have another son!" his father replied with a smile, shaking Scorpius a bit harder.

"I beg to differ," his mother responded quickly, finally joining in to the conversation. "Not unless you want to carry the damn thing yourself. I told you I am not having another one of those!" Astoria Malfoy then winced a bit, realizing what she had just said in front of her beloved son.

"Not that I didn't love having you dear, but you were hell on my back," she explained simply. Scorpius laughed. He knew his mother wasn't like most women in his family's social circle. She was extremely intelligent and incredibly blunt. Coupled with a stubbornness that rivaled his father's, Scorpius had grown up listening to his parents argue and banter constantly. Though when his friend's parents fought it was often a sign of trouble, that was simply how his parents worked with one another. It was like an ongoing inside joke the three of them shared. He knew his parents loved one another. His father once confided in him that Astoria was the only woman who could handle him, while his mother expressed that Draco was the only person who she had ever met that never left her bored, which was a quality that was most important to her.

"Fine, I suppose you're safe… for now," his father granted letting him go so that Scorpius lay between them.

"So, are you ready to go to Diagon Alley today?" Scorpius chirped happily, sitting up next to his mother.

"Oh… damn," his father cursed, slapping his hand over his forehead. "Do we have to? That place is going to crawling with people. The school owls got sent out this week!"

"Dad! You promised when you got back that you'd take me there!" Scorpius reminded urgently.

"I know, but can't we just…"

"Honestly Draco, take the boy! You did promise that you'd go look at books and broomsticks when you got back. And you don't want to teach our son that it is okay to go back on his promises, do you? Especially to his family?" his mother asked in a falsely pure voice.

"Yeah, Dad! Aren't you supposed to be setting a good model for me, the impressionable child?" Scorpius inquired, leaning softly against his mother. Draco sat up quickly, and stared back and forth between his wife and son.

"I don't care if you do look just like me, you are every bit as manipulative and maniacal as she is," his father pointed expressively.

"Yeah, he got the genes of mine that counted," Astoria replied affectionately, tussling her son's hair and planting a kiss on his temple.

"Oh, fine! I give in, I'll take you. But just to look at brooms and the book store, no place else!" his father said firmly, trying to get some kind of say in the situation.

"Alright!" Scorpius shouted, jumping up and down on the far side of the bed.

"How did I end up with a son who can outsmart me at age nine?" Draco lamented as he stood next to his wife.

"Oh, honey," Astoria said kindly, propping up on her knees on the bed and pulling him close to her by his night shirt. "It isn't very hard to outsmart you."

"Oh ha ha," he replied sarcastically, pushing her head against his and running his fingers roughly through her inky black hair. "But seriously, it's ridiculous!"

"Karma is a heartless bitch, I suppose," Astoria responded softly, watching her son jump happily on their bed.

"Yeah, well so's my wife," Draco stated, pulling her chin back over to face him. She smiled happily and embraced him in a deep and passionate kiss.

"Eww," Scorpius said softly, ending his romp on the bed. He shook his head and slid down. He was used to his parents' bouts of affection; it was the other side of their constant bickering. He made his way silently out the room and headed down to the kitchen. He had grown quite able to make his own breakfast.

(_A/N: This is a little short story that has been rolling around in my head. I have an idea for a giant Draco/Astoria story that I am dying to write, which is why their relationship is so crazily defined here. I am determined however to finish my Percy story before I move on to any other long ones, but I just got an urge to write this tonight. The second and probably final chapter should be put up soon!) _


	2. Chapter 2

Drops of condensation streamed across Scorpius' face as he broke through the lower level cloud line. In contrast to the dark and dingy weather that continued below, it was bright and sunny up in his secluded layer of atmosphere. The wispy smoke like molecules shielded him from the watchers on the ground, giving him free reign to test out the broomstick uninhibited.

Scorpius had been flying ever since he could put two feet firmly on the ground. His dad made sure of that. He was placed upon a toy broomstick long before he could even say "Quidditch", and hadn't wanted to dismount one since. He spent his toddler years zooming around the wide corridors of his house, terrorizing his parents' work associates when they came over, and nearly breaking countless priceless heirlooms. When he was five his mother banished him from flying in the house after he knocked over one of her prized plants, and forced him to go outside with it. It was then he realized that as fond as he was of his toy, it was time to move on to the next level. Flying wasn't as exhilarating in the open air when you could only float a few feet above the ground.

_One day, while his father was off at work, his mother was tending to her greenhouse, and his old nanny was dozing on the couch, he slipped away and descended into the basement. There he quickly found the thin case that held his father's old Nimbus 2001, still well kept and in good condition. Quietly, he took the broom outside. After doing a quick memory jog of all the things his father had taught him, he mounted the broom, and lifted off into the air. It was the best feeling he had ever experience in his life. He knew at that moment he could never go back to the children's version and fell deeper in love with flying the higher and higher he went. Something about directing the broom was almost instinctive, and he could turn and accelerate instantly and without problem. _

_That is, until it came to stopping._

_He heard his mother call for him somewhere on the grounds. Realizing it was probably lunch time, he tried to make his way down safely and land out of sight. The problem was, he had never learned how to break on the real thing. Panic began to sink in as he reached level ground but continued across the lawn at top speed. His mind went blank as he focused all his attention on dodging trees, fence posts and fountains. He continued this for a lifetime, or a few minutes, he was never really sure, with his trainers brazing the cut grass, unable to think of a way to stop. Whatever part of his mind that remained conscious contemplated mortality for the first time in his young life as he sped out of control. _

_"Scorpius!"_

_Scorpius was dimly aware of his father's cry but was unable to do anything about it but cling tighter to the broom handle. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a black cloaked figure rushing his direction. He felt the broom bounce as his father leapt on the length behind him, and the warmth as his arms shot around his body, taking control of the end and pulling it up. The broom stopped dead in its stead._

_Scorpius sat ridged, in shock, and he momentarily forgot how to move his body. His hands let go of the handle of their own derision, and he felt his body start to slide sideways. His father's arms once again grabbed hold of him, but the shift in weight caused the broom to turn over. He and his father fell with a thud to the ground, the son landing softly on top of his father._

_"Scorpius!" his father exclaimed, with more emotion in his inflection than he had ever remembered his father using. "What the hell were you doing!?!"_

_"I…er...flying, and…" Though he knew he had an explanation for his actions, he still couldn't get his voice to convey it, and instead he shuddered violently, physically trying to shake off the shock._

_"Don't you ever, EVER, do that again, do you understand me?" his father yelled angrily, though his voice shook almost as hard as Scorpius did. "You could have killed yourself! What were you thinking?"_

_But Scorpius wasn't given a chance to respond, as his father had sat them both up and crushed him hard into his chest. Scorpius felt his father's heart beating faster than his own._

_"Dad?" Scorpius began as he pulled himself away slightly, finally in control of his motions._

_"Yes?" his father replied curtly, his skin and lips deathly pale._

_"That was the wickedest thing ever!" Scorpius proclaimed, rolling off his father and climbing towards the fallen broom. "Can we do that again?"_

_"Absolutely not!" his father replied, grabbing his son's outstretched wrist. "You're lucky I don't skin you alive right here! You just wait until your mother hears about this! I doubt you'll have enough body parts left to even mount a broom again!"_

_"But Dad, it was so amazing! I was doing a really good job doing all maneuvers you told me about! Well, except braking, but I think I got that now!" Scorpius expressed eagerly. His father's eyes widened and he fell back on to his elbows as though knocked over. It was a strange sight for Scorpius to see: his father, normally a picture of propriety, lying back in the dirt in his otherwise pristine and expensive business robes, with the most remarkable of looks upon his face. It was a mix of emotions Scorpius didn't realize you could have all at once, one of anger, fear, relief, and, if he was not mistaken, a hint of pride._

_"You, sir, are in massive amounts of trouble," he father announced, rolling to his feet and dusting the debris off his clothes. He pulled Scorpius up and firmly took hold of the broomstick._

_"If you ever use this again without permission, it will be your end." But the menace in his voice had been replaced with the usual slightly distant affectionate tone he gave his son whenever they were in public. The threat also lost some of its sting as his father couldn't keep from smiling._

_Scorpius didn't really care if he was going to be punished, and as he was marched towards the house by his father all he could think about was the intoxicating sensation he had felt while up in the air._

_"There you two are!" his mother exclaimed, cutting into his reminiscing. She made her way determinedly up the hill towards them, his old nanny waddling up as fast as she could behind her. As she reached her son and husband, she noticed the broomstick held in the older one's hand. Her sharp green eyes narrowed._

_"Draco, you weren't letting him ride that dangerous thing, were you? He can't be old enough for a full sized broom yet?" she asked, motherly concern slipping out of her cool demeanor. Draco hesitated, looking down at his son who stood steadfastly by his feet._

_"Sure he is," he replied surprisingly. "You've seen how good he is on the small one. It'll stunt his development if he doesn't upgrade soon. He knows most of the basics of flying."_

_Astoria narrowed her eyes again, shifting them from her conspicuous husband to her son, who was beaming brightly._

_"Okay," she replied slowly, giving into the fact that, despite hating to admit it, Draco was the parent to be consulted about flying, as she abhorred the activity herself and had always refused to learn._

_"Just make sure you watch him closely. He might lose control and break his neck."_

_"Of course! Scorpius wouldn't dream of going off and flying by himself, would you, Scorp?" his father asked, grasping his son firmly around the back of his neck. Very firmly._

_"Yeah, Mum, you think I'd be that thick to go off flying alone?" he inquired in what he hoped was a convincing voice. His mother shook her head and threw up her hands, signaling that passed his safety, she didn't particularly care about the matter._

_"What's for lunch, darling? I'm ravenous," his father inquired, switching the subject and wrapping his arm around his wife's waist as they headed toward the house. Scorpius was left standing behind them, revaluing__ in the joy that his near death experience seemed to manifest itself into an allowance henceforth denied. His father turned his head briefly and winked._

From that point on, Scorpius directed all of his father's free time into teaching him to fly properly. Weekends, lunch breaks and vacations were spent in their open field, running drills and learning techniques. In a year's time Scorpius could out fly all of his friends and most of their older siblings. His father proclaimed that his speed and agility suited the position of Seeker perfectly. Scorpius thought there was no feeling quite like narrowly catching the Snitch out of the grasp of an opponent. But his father was also quite adamant on him not wasting time during the game taunting his ability in the enemy's face. He had a feeling that his father's reasoning came more from a distracted experience rather than good sportsmanship, but none the less the proper attitude led to more people willing to play with him. Which in turn, lead to a wider spread plane of victory.

Despite his ineffable love of flying, the incomparable feeling of first contact with the Snitch, and it being a good outlet for both his competitive side and making friends, Scorpius thought the best part of Quidditch was the time he got to spend with his dad. No matter how many people Scorpius met, both children and adult, all of whom fell instantly smitten with his witty charm and good-looks, he never felt particularly close to anyone except his parents. Sure he liked a lot of people, but he was a Malfoy. And though he was assured by his father being a Malfoy meant something different in the new millennium, it was still a reserved and elevated post. Though he tried not to be a snob, especially when it came to his wealth, he couldn't help but notice that he was different then all the other kids his age.

This he blamed on his mother. Before he was born, she was an expert experimental potion's master. Her earnings helped build his father's company and together they ran a business empire. After she became pregnant, she reluctantly left her fast pace job to raise him properly, though she insisted she would have it no other way. While his father was at work, Astoria read to him constantly, encouraging him to do the same. She took him to museums and had him help tend her vast greenhouses containing rare ingredients for her work. That, coupled with his innate intelligence she took credit for bestowing, left him to be a rather cultured and sophisticated nine year old. It also left him lonely amongst his peers.

Luckily he had his family. He noticed his parents never really let any of their friends get too close either. They were however, extremely open with each other, quite bluntly so. And, to an extent, they were quite open with their son. Scorpius felt, with obvious exceptions, that he shared an almost survival comradery with his parents, rather than the traditional structure.

Nowhere was this more obvious to him than with his father during Quidditch. Though hard work, it was the most fun Scorpius had. With no one else in sight his father was free to laugh and joke affectionately. Astoria refused to watch them fly, as Scorpius developed an affinity to flying upside down, which drove the normally unflappable woman to panic attacks. He discovered a lot of things about his father up in the air. He learned his father was a very imaginative curser, and through him he learned phrases that sent 7th years flushing. His father also had a rather lovely singing voice, though this was something he kept under closest confidence.

Scorpius was also slowly told of his father at school, and the part he played during the war.

Though he was repugnant to the ideals for which his father fought, Scorpius never held his father's past deeds against him. The school boy Draco Malfoy seemed like a distant shadow of the man who taught him to fly and how to play dirty songs on the piano. His father never pushed the idea of the superiority of purebloods on to him. In fact, he hardly mentioned the topic at all. Instead, his father instilled that they as Malfoy's were superior to most based on the accomplishments of the family. His parents had built up their company from nothing, their families' still suffering from being on the losing side of the war. Now, they had made more money from their ingenuity than they were set to inherit from their ancient familiar holdings. That, his father insisted, deserved respect.

Scorpius rolled the broomstick between his palms, causing it to rotate 180 degrees and place him upside down. He accelerated the new broom to its full potential, and closed his eyes as he felt the wind whip through his long locks of blonde feathered hair. He wondered if he would further the family's claim of superiority when he got older. He desperately felt a desire to do something great, though he wasn't at all sure of what that would be. He did know he wanted it to be _something_ that made his parents proud. His father rarely spoke to his grandfather, and Scorpius was almost completely cut off from that side of the family. He was a little closer to the Greengrass side, but his grandparents seemed rather apathetic at their daughter's accomplishments, asides from the fact that she was incredibly wealthy.

Scorpius opened his eyes. He rather enjoyed the speed and agility of the broom he test flew. His father had been pushing him towards getting a new one for ages. Scorpius had liked his father's Nimbus 2001 quite fine, and he liked the fact that it was a hand-me-down. His mother had never pushed for a new broom until fairly recently. Though his parents had a vast amount of wealth, his mother was quite adamant that he didn't receive everything he desired instantly.

"I already have one spoiled brat I have to put up with," she would tell his father pointedly. "I'm not about to raise a second one."

It was her reasoning that if the broom still worked and he was beating everyone on it despite its age, than he didn't need another one. And this stood firm until his father pointed out that her baby was going 130 mph upside-down on a piece of wood that had been well used for almost a quarter of a century. The next day it was announced that he would get a new broom for his birthday.

Having never really ridden anything else, he had never found fault with the old broom. Now as he reached speeds nearing 165 mph, he realized just what he'd been missing. The Altostratus was sleek, stopped on a Knut, and didn't vibrate when he took his maneuvers a step further than he probably should. Scorpius grinned.

Maintaining his speed at his overturned position, he pushed himself off the handle slightly. Wrapping his legs around the handle as tightly as he could, he let one arm outstretch as though reaching for the Snitch. This was a maneuver he had recently mastered on his old broom. The speed increase caused him to be a little shaky, but the broom continued to hold steady.

He then thought about the game winning move he saw the Seeker from Scotland pull during the last World Cup. It was something he had never been able to attempt on his old broom, as it shook too hard for him to safely try. But secluded up above Diagon Alley, on this new devise that seemed to trust Scorpius' ability despite his age, he decided to go for it.

He tensed and flexed the muscles in his abdomen, causing his torso to go as ridged as possible. And then, with no further thought, he let his grip go entirely on the handle and let his other arm free for just a moment. This gave him more range to grab the Snitch, allowing him to be further away from the other flyer and any tricks they might try and pull. After a few split seconds of testing, he quickly swung both hands back on to the handle, returned right side up, and stopped.

It was quite a bollocksy move. His mother would have killed him if she saw. His father too would have been angry, saying he was not yet that skilled of a flyer and that he was too young to have the properly developed muscles to hold such a stance.

Scorpius laughed. This was definitely the broom he wanted.

_(A/N: I know I said this was probably going to be the last chapter, but I got really caught up on Scorpius' background. It is essential to the plot, I promise! And yes, he meets Rosie in the next chapter.)_


	3. Chapter 3

As Scorpius broke through the cloud layer he felt the drops of rain fall with him, forewarning those below that a storm was about to come. He wasn't sure of how long he had been hidden behind the thick layer of stratosphere, but he had a feeling it was time to return. The store owner had only reluctantly let him test the broom outside. It was his policy not to let children ride his brooms, but between his father's cool and intimidating presence and the knowledge that a Malfoy would have no problem dropping the Gallons on such an expensive object for his adolescent son, he had let Scorpius try it out. The owner had hinted that he should not take it very far, but his father counteracted, telling Scorpius to take it out as far and for as long as he wanted, over-riding the shopkeeper with his understood position of superiority he held over everyone except his wife. Scorpius had been happy to oblige his father.

He aimed to land on the outskirts of the Alley, away from the busy store fronts and the gaggle of boys his age who all looked longingly at his ability to try out the state of the art broom. He continued to feel ecstatic about the ride, and would easily oblige the gawkers in regaling about the experience. But he knew he was expected to appear reserved and nonchalant, even bored over the ordeal, especially around his father. Malfoys were always allowed exceptions and always received the best, and to show his more passionate emotions to a brood of boys in a public street would be undignified. He needed to give himself a chance to compose himself after dismounting, and figured the walk to the store should give him enough time.

He made his way to the far end of the Alley, towards the normally abandoned junk shop. It was still early in the day, and most shoppers had yet to visit this side. Only those families with children just entering Hogwarts tarried on this end, as soon to be First Years waited anxiously for their first wands. As he descended, he watched one such family enter Ollivander's, the eldest boy running happily into the shop, with his presumed younger sister chasing after him. The parents followed in suit, but another boy, who looked to be the middle child, decided to stay out of the busy place, and instead looked curiously into the junk store window.

Scorpius landed on the road behind him and swung happily off the broom. His face was plastered with a seemingly permanent grin, and he laughed joyfully upon dismounting. The boy turned around, startled by the newcomer. He pushed his glasses up on his face and ran his hands habitually through his messy locks of jet black hair.

"Whoa, is that an Altostratus?" the boy asked elatedly, abandoning his inspection of the window to view the much more interesting apparition in front of him.

"Yeah!" Scorpius announced excitedly, and without thinking handed the broom over for him to examine.

"Wicked," the boy announced, looking over the handle with a trained eye. "How was it?"

"Amazing," Scorpius regaled. "It was the smoothest ride I've ever had, and it's wicked fast."

"Wow," the boy breathed, taking one last look at the broom before handing it back over. "I'm still riding a Firebolt, and even then I have to share it with my brother."

"Yeah, but the Firebolt's a classic," Scorpius expressed, excited to find someone interested in brooms that he could talk to freely. "And this isn't even mine yet. My parents are thinking about getting it for my birthday. I'm still riding my dad's old Nimbus."

"My dad used to have one of those," the boy replied with a smile, happy that the sharply dressed flyer didn't snub him. "He swears by them!"

"Mine too! So what positions do you and your brother play?" Scorpius asked, enjoying his conversation too much to worry about keeping his father waiting.

"My brother is a little bulkier than I, but can fly wicked fast, so he plays Chaser. I'm built like my Dad so I always play Seeker," the boy said proudly.

"No way! My Dad was Seeker too and that's what I play," Scorpius told eagerly, excited that his and this boy's families seemed to have a lot in common. At least on important matters, like an appreciation for Quidditch.

"Wicked!" the boy beamed. "Maybe we could get together and play sometime? Compare styles and all that."

"Yeah, I'll even let you try my Altostratus if I end up getting it!" Scorpius agreed. "What's your name? Maybe our parents already know each other and can set something up."

"Albus!" a woman's voice called from the wand shop. Both boys turned and looked to see the door open with smoke streaming out of the store.

"Albus, your brother set the bookcase on fire. Come here so I don't have to worry about any of my other children," the woman called as she coughed into her shirt and squinted her eyes that had been agitated by the smoke.

"Coming Mum!" the boy named Albus called. He turned back to Scorpius and grinned.

"James is kind of a trouble-maker and a real idiot sometimes. Doesn't surprise me that he's already wreaking havoc with in the first five minutes of having a wand. But I guess I'll see you around?" he asked hopefully.

"Definitely," Scorpius replied. "I owe you a go on my Altostratus still."

"Wicked," Albus pronounced for a final time before waving farewell and joining his family in the still smoking shop. Scorpius waited until the scrawny, shaggy hair boy disappeared behind the door before he made his way down the Alley. He had enjoyed talking to the boy and was more than grateful to immediately have someone to share his jubilation with. Albus had talked to him so casually, with an instant welcome of friendship. No one his age ever talked to him like that. Hell, even older kids didn't. Most of the children he played with, the ones he suppose he considered his friends, all looked up to him and revered him as a superior, as a leader. He was a Malfoy after all. Their parents all played submissive to Draco and Astoria, it was only natural that Scorpius headed their young group.

A part of him liked that. He was creative and competitive, liked the attention and the status, and was used to being followed. It had been that way his whole life. None of them dared to argue with him, none of them ever disagreed.

But Scorpius had begun to feel that wasn't such a great thing. None of the children in his social circle ever challenged him. They never came up with their own ideas and simply followed his. And as ingenious as some of his schemes were, it would be nice for someone else to make a plan. That was another thing he had liked about Albus, he initiated an action first.

Scorpius was struck with the sudden realization that he hadn't given the boy his name. A hint of remorse trickled through his veins. Though it had been such a brief interaction, there was something about him he had really liked. He was energetic and enthralling, with a keen eye for brooms and mechanics. None of the boys Scorpius flew with could match him in his skill, and Albus had given him a jump of hope of actually flying against someone worthwhile. A part of him wanted to run back to the wand store and see if they could actually ever meet up and play.

But when he truly thought of it, he cast the idea to the side. His parents were fairly particular with whom he played with. Albus, though clean and well taken care of, wore plain clothes and trainers that had definitely seen better days. Scorpius' robes were expensive and of respectable fashion, paired with sleek and stylish boots. His hair, though boyishly long, was always well kept. Though the family looked nice, they were hardly the sort of people he could see his parents interacting with. Albus' mom looked like the kind of woman who baked cookies and crafted art projects for her kids, while his mother despised cooking and preferred going to art museums over making necklaces out of noodles. And while he didn't get a very good look at the dad, he got the ominous feeling that their fathers wouldn't be the type to shoot the breeze with each other. His family only interacted socially with the wealthiest and most powerful in society, and scarcely made exceptions.

As he caught sight of the Quality Quidditch Supply shop and headed towards his father with the new broom in hand, Scorpius figured that every perk in life must have some downside to it.

"How was the ride, my son?" his father asked coolly, lip upturned in a slight sneer at the anxiousness of the store owner.

"Satisfactory," Scorpius responded, slipping into his expected public persona. "It handled well in all my tests."

"Tests?" the shopkeeper asked nervously, his eyes locked on to the broom still slumped over Scorpius' shoulder.

"Yes, of course," his father replied easily, giving the apprehensive man the classic Malfoy look. "You don't expect me to drop a small fortune on a broom for my son without being assured he gets exactly what he wants out of it, now do you?"

The man cringed under Draco's leer.

"No, of course not, Mr. Malfoy, sir," he bumbled. "I'm enthralled that young master Scorpius finds my broom so efficient to his needs.

"Good," Draco responded simply, giving the man one last slightly menacing glare before returning his gaze on his son. Scorpius made a mental note to try and master that look for himself. His father took the broom out of his hands and inspected it lazily before tossing it back to the store owner.

"Take this broom and properly store this in the back. Do not allow anyone else to touch it after that. You will be contacted in the middle of October to inform you of our decision," his father explained curtly, before turning around swiftly and ushering Scorpius out of the store. They were met by the same motley brood of children that had been pressing their noses eagerly against the window. They quickly parted to give way to the pair.

"So, how about it, Scorp?" his father asked him quietly, dropping his reserved tone for his normal affection as soon as they were out of earshot. "Have we found the Birthday Broom?"

"I'd even be willing to sacrifice my Christmas gifts for it," Scorpius answered in an excited seriousness. Draco laughed.

"Well, if it were up to me I'd get it for you now instead of making you wait until the end of October. But you know how your mother is about these things."

"I know," Scorpius responded eagerly. "But I don't mind. I just can't wait to get the hang of that broom and try out some new things!"

"I don't see how you could be more reckless. Not even ten years old and you're doing things I didn't dream of doing at twenty. Next thing you know you'll be hanging upside-down with just your legs tying you to the handle," his father joked.

"Come off it, Dad. That's a bit much, even for me," Scorpius answered, trying to keep from smiling.

"I can only hope you have that much sense in your head," his father teased, ruffling his hair affectionately. But after just a few moments, Scorpius felt his father's hands retreat from his locks, and he watched the warm smile on his face transform back into its stoic and reserved form. Scorpius turned around to see a black cloaked man rush hurriedly towards them.

"Mr. Malfoy!" the man called desperately, clutching a slim briefcase of papers to his chest. "I thought that was you!"

"What do you want, Coddsley?" his father snapped indignantly. "Can't you see I'm on an outing with my son?"

"Yes! Please, please excuse me! I normally wouldn't dream of interrupting, but…"

"But you'd thought today you'd make an exception?" his father asked warningly. "Whatever it is it can wait until office hours on Monday."

"But it's for the Shepherd account for the meeting on Monday!" the clerk cried desperately. Scorpius watched his father's hand grip tightly to his walking stick.

"I told you to have that all sorted out before I returned," Draco stated through gritted teeth. Scorpius backed away slightly.

"I know! But there was a mix up with the paper work… and you know how strict the goblins are…"

"Don't talk to me about goblins!" Draco threatened in the icy tone. He grabbed the file case out of Coddsley's grasp. "I'll run through it myself."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy! I'm so sorry! I'll come with and help…"

"Come with?" his father scoffed. "What use would you be? You'll be lucky if I even let you sort my mail from this point. Just hope this doesn't take up too much of my time. Every minute I spend waiting around Gringotts is another weight on the scale of my decision to fire you."

Coddsley's eyes widened and he stumbled back a few steps as though he had been hit. Quickly he bowed his head and left his boss's presence, disappearing into the chattering crowd without another word.

"Shit," his father cursed, tucking the file under his arm. "This was the last bloody thing I needed to deal with today."

"Dad," Scorpius said urgently, tugging on his cloak. "You promised to take me to the bookstore. I don't want to go to the bank."

Draco rolled his eyes, filled to the brim with annoyance. He dipped into his pockets and pulled out a small leather purse full of money and dropped it into his son's hands.

"Get whatever you like but don't leave the bookstore! I don't want to have to chase you around the Alley looking for you!" his father instructed firmly, though his demeanor began to soften quickly after.

"Hell, what am I saying? You'd probably live in that store if we'd let you." His father shot his son a discreet smile before turning and heading off to Gringotts. Scorpius beamed happily, shoving the purse quickly in his pocket and running off to Flourish and Blotts.

Though flying was his ultimate passion, reading was what he spent the majority of his time doing. Though they always made time for him, his parents were very busy people. After them, Scorpius would rather spend his time in the company of books rather than anyone else he knew. His interests were rather varied, ranging from classics and poetry, trashy thrillers and mystery novels, over to books on botany and potions, history and wild beasts. He hadn't read up too much on magic that required wands and spells, as any practical magic he stumbled upon he instantly wanted to try, and being denied a wand due to his age left him rather depressed. But still, anything he could grow or mix together in his mother's greenhouse or lab that he could get his hands on he did.

The non-fiction section of the store was packed with Hogwarts students and their parents. Text books were stacked by subjects in quickly disappearing piles. Scorpius looked longingly over at the Potions and Herbology texts, itching to crack one open, despite being two years away from entering school and actually being able to own one. But then again…

Minding the coin purse that jingled in his pocket, he darted in between the groups of people pouring over the books. The Potion section was incredibly full, but he was able to squeeze in close to a Herbology table. His eye was immediately drawn to a black book with sheen letters called _Rare and Dangerous Plants_. Scorpius grinned, and snagged the last copy that lay on the table.

He wound his way around the other customers, flipping through the pages as he made his way to the cash register. The line was painfully long, and Scorpius was filled with the desire to find a quite place to settle down and begin reading. He saw his chance as the mother at the front of the line was busy rounding up her four children, all of whom had placed their books on the floor, and stole to the front.

"Aren't you a little young for this stuff?" the man at the register inquired. "These are plants you won't even see until your O.W.L's, and you don't even look to be a First Year."

Scorpius scowled at the man's insolence, and decided to take that moment as his first public test as a Malfoy.

"There is no question of money," Scorpius said in the shortest and iciest tone he could muster. "Perhaps you wish my family and I to take our business elsewhere for the rest of my school career." And then he tried his best to imitate his father's stare as he held out the burgeoning coin purse in front of the clerk.

"I didn't mean anything by it," the man said quickly, ringing up the book and handing it back over quickly. "I was just saying…"

"Perhaps you should keep your speculations to yourself," Scorpius retorted, leaving the Gallons on the table and taking off with the last word. As soon as he was out of sight, he broke into a smile.

He headed over to the fiction section, which was comparatively deserted. He ignored the other shoppers, walking towards a free arm chair near the second entrance window, already wrapped up in his book. He was shaken out of his world, however, when he was abruptly bumped into by a boy smaller than he, causing him to drop his book. The young boy picked it up energetically, and shoved it back into his hands. He had shocking red hair that wasn't so much curly as it was bushy.

"Sorry!" the boy explained distractedly. Scorpius couldn't tell if his face was full of freckles or dirt, though the longer he stared at him the more he began to believe it was both. The kid ran back towards the door before Scorpius could say anything.

"Dad!" the little boy whined, running towards the tall man with equally shocking, though tamer, hair. "I don't want to stay at the stupid bookstore! I want to watch James pick out his owl!"

"Hugo, you know your sister wants to look at books," the father accommodated warmly.

"Well she can stay here than!" the boy argued. "You're all always going on about how smart and mature she is! Let her pick out a stupid book while we go to the Emporium!"

"Hugo…"

"Honestly Dad, I don't mind. I'd prefer to be able to pick out a book without feeling rushed," a new voice said, the speaker hidden behind a bookcase. The father remained quiet for a moment.

"Okay, Rosie, you can stay," the father finally allowed. "But remember only pick out one book. You nearly received a whole library on your birthday."

"Wicked! Dad, can I get an owl too?" Hugo asked.

"What do you need an owl for? Nobody writes you," the hidden voice retorted in a very older sisterly manner.

"We have Pig and Crookshanks at home for you to play with," the father bargained, turning the boy out of the store.

"How about a rat? You and Uncle Percy both had rats!"

"First off, it was the same rat," the father explained, slightly exasperated. "And secondly, you know that really wasn't a rat, it was…"

But whatever it really was Scorpius would never know, as the door shut firmly behind them. Scorpius shook his head, still indignant about being run into, and abandoned his quest for the public chair. He much rather now find a quiet cranny to settle into, and not move from the spot until his father searched for him.

He made his way through the narrow maze of shelves. He knew the paths well, and knew exactly where he wanted to sit. The trouble was, his way was impeded by a girl.

Scorpius took a step back and retreated to the parallel path. He had caught a glimpse of red and determined she must be the missing voice of the obnoxious family from earlier. He walked quietly down his row, determined to see what he was up against while simultaneously thinking up ways to get her to leave the area he desired. Slowly he inched forward, standing on the tips of his polished boots to look through the spaces between the books.

The first thing he noticed was though her hair was definitely red, it was not the harsh, shocking color of her father and brother. It was a much darker auburn color which curled pleasantly down her shoulders. Her face was also freckled, but her skin reminded Scorpius more of cinnamon sprinkled on top of cream rather than smudged dirt. She wore a hand knitted green and blue flecked sweater, the lumpy kind he normally thought were tacky. Yet somehow on her it looked endearing, especially as the color complimented her features well. She hummed a sweet melody under her breath as she gently fingered the volumes of the shelves. Some of Scorpius' favorite authors and books were on these shelves, and he was suddenly very curious to see what she would pick up.

Her fingers stopped on a respectably sized book and lingered there. Scorpius could just see her lips twist into a joyful smile as she skillfully tipped the book off the shelf and caught it gracefully as it fell. Scorpius instantly recognized the yellow cover and realized she had taken the book _The New Kid_, written by one of his favorite authors Hornsby Cadfael. It was a particularly witty book, filled with some of the funniest descriptions of ordinary situations he had ever read. It had also packed his vocabulary arsenal with words like "cachinnate", "hesternal" and his personal favorite, "coprolalomaniac", which he decreed his father to be at the dinner table after ranting angrily about his bumbling assistant, earning him a hardy laugh and an extra serving of dessert from his mother.

The girl too seemed to know the book, as she flipped to the middle of the book without hesitation, reading what Scorpius imagined was Cadfael's creation story of the glabella. She giggled accordingly, rubbing the space between her eyebrows (aka her glabella) as she read the passage. Scorpius smiled. He normally found girls his age's laughter obnoxious and high pitched, but hers was, for lack of a term, cute.

She shut the book and returned it carefully to its place on the shelf, and eagerly searched the section for another, biting her lip as she did. Her finger stopped on what Scorpius could tell was one of the newer looking books. It was also the book he was hiding behind. His pale gray eyes met her brown ones.

The girl gasped and the book dropped to the floor. Scorpius swiftly rounded the corner to face the girl head on in her aisle. He looked at her for a moment, taking in the rest of her appearance that had been hidden thus far. She was slim yet tall, almost as tall as he, and that was when he was in boots. The first image that popped into his head was that of the Amazon women he had read about, especially as her face was arranged into such a fierce and wild look.

"Were you spying on me?" she demanded sternly, crossing her arms fearlessly. Scorpius bent down to pick the fallen book off the floor and gently smoothed out the pages.

"This," he said decidedly, "is not the book you should purchase."

"You were spying on me, you lout!" she exclaimed indignantly, throwing her hands on her hips. "What right do you have to…"

"To look at someone in a public bookstore?" Scorpius interjected with the slightest smile. "Last time I checked we lived in a free country."

"It's impolite to stare," she contested. "Especially between bookshelves when someone is wrapped up in fiction." Scorpius' smile grew because he enjoyed the statement, but this seemed to infuriate the redhead, almost to the point of fuming.

"Okay," Scorpius shrugged casually. "Let me make it up to you. Listen to me and don't waste your time on this book."

"Why should I listen to a cretin who stalks little girls in a bookshop?" she demanded, snatching the book out of his hand. "Hornsby Cadfael happens to be an amazing writer. Not that I'd expect you to understand, as none of his books have pop-up pictures in them."

Scorpius raised in eyebrow. No one had ever talked to him like this before, insulted and abused him so thoroughly. He found the situation…challenging.

"_Lone Star, Still Life with Wombats, The New Kid_," Scorpius listed instantly. "All classics." The girl seemed taken aback, and the angry look on her face slipped into momentary impression.

"Yes…" she agreed slowly. "I've never met anyone else my age who likes…" But then she stopped, remembering she was angry at the boy in front of her, and she fought to return to her righteous indignation.

"If you agree with me, why shouldn't I read his new book?" she insisted.

"Because its rubbish," he replied simply, emptying his hands into his pockets, enjoying her conflicted interest.

"How could you possibly know that? This book just came out."

"My Dad is friends with the owner of the publishing company. I get a copy of any book I want before it's on the shelves, and I'm telling you, _Landslide_ is an epic disappointment."

"Why?" she asked curtly, her curiosity over riding her initial dislike.

"It's jumbled, humorless, with a clichéd plot line and rather flat characters. Cadfael was going through a wicked divorce at the time, and it's basically a two hundred page rant on the evils of women and how all the problems of the main character would be solved if women were seen and not heard," he explained.

"Ew," she exclaimed, looking at the book in her hands as though it were a squashed flubberworm on the bottom of her Mary Jane's.

"Exactly," he replied, gently grabbing the book out of her hand and replacing it on the shelf for her. "It's a shame really, but I have hopes that old Hornsby will bounce back." He gave her a warm smile which she hesitantly replicated.

"Well, what book did you see worthy enough to purchase?" she asked, her voice softening around its edges. Scorpius handed it over.

"Wow," she expressed softly, flipping through the pages. She looked back over to Scorpius, and he got the feeling he was being reevaluated, his status of cretin being questioned. Scorpius got a chance to look closer at her face. He was amazed to notice that even her eyes had freckles in them, and her sweater seemed to bring out little flecks of watery blue contrasting against the warm honey brown. He had never seen eyes like that before.

"Do you really like this, or are you just trying to be impressive?" she asked as her eyes flickered over the complicated conditions needed to grow and care for the plants.

"I love this stuff. I help my Mum in her greenhouses a lot. I think it's fascinating how you can use plants for potions and other purposes. Kinda like nature gave us all the keys for survival and power and we just had to be smart enough to figure out how to use them," he explained. A genuine smile filled her face at his comment, and the last of her harshness vanished, leaving Scorpius somewhat dumbstruck at how kind she looked.

"I like that thought," she admitted, looking down at the book gingerly. "Most boys don't like plants and flowers. They're more obsessed with speeding through the sky than looking what's in the ground."

"Well, Quidditch is much more readily exciting than Herbology. Plants won't get your blood pumping as fast as racing. You know, unless you eat Yaupon Holly, but then you'll probably end up throwing up. Thus the vomit part of _Ilex vomitoria._" He grinned shamelessly as she let out another round of adorable laughter, her eyes shining.

"That's brilliant," she exclaimed after ending her fit of giggles. "What else do you like to read?"

"Oh, loads of stuff. Prose mostly, though I have been reading the works of the Muggle poet Robert Dylan," he said, trying to sound impressive.

"Robert Dylan? My mother is a Muggle-born and has shown me a lot of Muggle works, but I've never heard of Robert Dylan," she said slowly.

"Oh come on, Robert Dylan?" he asked eagerly. "How many roads must a man walk down  
before you call him a man? How many seas must a white dove sail before she sleeps in the sand? The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind, the answer is blowin' in the wind."

The girl stared at him for a moment before she descended into a loud bout of laughter, doubling over as she gasped happily.

"Shh!" Scorpius chastised, unhappy at the turn of events and how she seemed to be making fun of him. "What's so bloody funny?"

"Bob Dylan!" she finally explained, tears rolling down her face. "It's Bob Dylan you're talking about. He's a folk singer. My Grandad Granger listens to him all the time!"

"Oh," Scorpius said, cheeks going slightly red. "I didn't know that. There aren't any Muggles in my family. I just came across a printed copy of his poems… songs."

"It's okay," she replied, still laughing at his mistake. She stopped shortly after, seeing his embarrassment, and began to calm. "It's impressive that you know of him at all. My dad's side is all pure blood and they know hardly anything from Muggle culture."

"I like to read," he replied nonchalantly. "I figure the majority of the world's population is Muggle, there's sure to be something worthwhile they offer to culture." The girl shook her head in agreement.

"So, what's your name?" she asked, tucking an auburn lock behind her ears. Scorpius hesitated. He always had mixed feelings about his name. He knew it was different than most, and it was only traditional in his family's habit of weird nomenclature. He believed it was a kind of cool, it was original and somewhat dangerous sounding. None of his friends dared to make fun of him for it, at least not to his face, but he doubted it would faze him much if they did. But something about this girl made him want to be liked. He had felt incredibly self-conscious at his Muggle ignorance, even though she had insisted she was impressed. He didn't want her to laugh at him again.

"Scorpius," he finally told, holding his breath as he waited to see how she reacted. Her eyes seem to widen at the word, and her mouth dropped slightly, as though she were shocked by the sound. She looked him up and down once more, and he felt once again as though he were being reanalyzed.

"Like the constellation," she said finally, the smile returning to her face. Scorpius breathed a sigh of relief. "Well I'm Rose. It's nice to meet you Scorpius." She stuck her hand out cordially for him to shake. Scorpius grinned mischievously as he took her hand in his.

"Is that because you are both beautiful and dangerous?" he asked slyly. Rose raised an eyebrow and slid her hand out of his grasp.

"That was rather cheeky," she bantered, folding her arms across her chest. "My mother warned me against shameless flatters. She says they're up to no good and are usually compensating for something."

"Three things," Scorpius retorted, holding three fingers out in front of her with a grin. "First off, it wasn't flattery, it was truth. When you aren't ripping a boy to pieces and labeling him a lout and a cretin you are rather pretty."

"Sorry about that," Rose apologized with a smile. "My mother says I'm rather impetuous, especially when startled."

"That's the second reason. Shamelessness implies a lack of honor. I was merely paying homage to the fact that you were able to shake me to the core, which is quite an impressive feat. You'd appreciate that more if you knew my mother," he explained. Rose laughed again.

"And thirdly," he expressed, getting closer to her so that his last finger was a few inches away from her face. "You're mother is right. Boys who say such things usually are no good and are compensating for something. I, however, possess a talent so amazing that it leaves no need for compensating."

"Yeah?" she asked, cocking her head. "And what is that?"

"I can do magic," he replied simply.

"We can all do magic," she pointed out.

"I'm not talking about the blowing stuff up when you're angry magic, or levitating the candy dish over to the table after your mum put it out of reach magic. I'm talking about real, honest-to-goodness powerful magic, controlled and everything."

Rose looked at him hesitantly, teetering on the edge between logical disbelief and innate curiosity.

"You're bluffing," she decided, though she let her sentence hang in the air.

"Am not," he said coolly, his brain racing as it finished formulating the last of its plan.

"Alright then, prove it. Show me your magic," she asked brazenly.

"Okay," he shrugged casually. "Close your eyes and give me your hands."

"No!" she exclaimed, stepping back mockingly scandalized.

"Now, come on Rose, you said you wanted to see. My magic is sort of an off branch of Legilimency. I'm not going to invade your mind, just a particular desire. But I need you to close your eyes, keep your mind blank, and give me the slightest of contact. I promise you won't regret it," he urged, holding out his hands for her to take. She looked down at his clean palms and his warm smile.

"Oh, alright. But get fresh and I will punch you," she warned. She stood in front of him, closed her eyes, and laid her hands underneath his. He let his hands rest atop hers lightly, and he enjoyed how soft and warm they were. He watched her stand with her eyes closed, lip slightly bit in an eager anticipation. She was rather pretty.

After reveling in the moment for an appropriate amount of time, he too closed his eyes and pulled away.

"I feel it!" he announced mystically, stepping backwards without opening his eyes.

"Feel what?" she asked anxiously, following him down the aisle. Scorpius didn't reply but took three more steps back before spinning around fluidly. After a few turns he held out his finger and stopped suddenly, his index landing on a plum colored hardback. He opened his eyes and shook his head as though coming out of a trance. He took the book off the shelf and held it out to her.

"This," he said pointedly, "will be your favorite book. This is the one you need to buy. It will fulfill all of your literary desires."

"Oh yeah?" she asked skeptically, grinning as she took the book from him. She looked down at the cover, and for a moment her eyebrows disappeared into her curly bangs as though in surprise.

"What is it about?" she asked, trying to squash her interest.

"It's called _Starcrossed, _and it's this great book with lots of action, humor and drama, life lessons and all that. It even has some romance in it if you're into that sort of rubbish. The main character is a fiery girl, I forget her name… starts with a 'V' and has something to do with a town, like Villa or something, anyways..."

"I knew it!" she exclaimed accusingly. "That wasn't magic. You've read this book and just think I'd like it. You were just trying to be a show off."

Scorpius faltered slightly, caught early on in his scheme. He shook it off quickly though, and landed gracefully back on to his feet.

"I didn't just say you'd _like_ it. I told you that it would be your ultimate favorite. Pardon me for having an expansive library and having had read something. But I will guarantee you that this is the perfect book for you." Rose looked down at the book again.

"How?" she whispered, almost asking herself more than Scorpius.

"The Mind's Eye is a mysterious gift…"

"No, not that," she interrupted dismissively. "I mean, how can you guarantee?"

"Simple," he said with a grin, the pieces of his plan falling perfectly into place. "We'll exchange addresses. You buy the book and owl me when you've finished. If it wasn't the best book you've ever read, honestly now, then I will give you the copies of any books you want before they go out on to the shelf until we go to Hogwarts."

Rose's eyes lit up, fairly enticed by the deal.

"And if it is my favorite?" she asked quietly. Scorpius' grin broadened, and he closed the few steps between them.

"If it is your favorite, the next time we meet you have to kiss me. And not on the cheek, a proper grown up kiss. It doesn't have to be a snog, but still fair," he explained. Rose looked up at him, and the two locked eyes. Scorpius felt a rush of intensity he had never felt before. It was immensely strong, and though pleasurable, he didn't quite feel like he was able to handle such an emotion yet.

"Either way we get to correspond, which is all I'm really after," he said with a falsely brave laugh, breaking the contact between them. This was mostly true. This was the second time today he had met someone his age that he had felt a connection with. Albus had slipped away due to pragmatic instances, but with Rose he was determined not to let that happen. He was fairly certain he could owl her without his parents knowing. They could be quill pals before school when they could be proper friends. Maybe she would even be put into Slytherin. She sure looked good in green.

The kiss part he hadn't planned on at first. He had never really kissed a girl before, nor did he ever have a particular desire to do so. Plenty of girls strutted around him flirtatiously. But he had never really had interest in them. But something about Rose's eyes did something to him, something he couldn't describe. All he did know was he suddenly felt he understood why his father looked at his mother the way he did.

"Okay," Rose replied. "It's a deal."

Scorpius' face lit up, ecstatic that the plan had actually worked. Rose smiled fully, though her cheeks blushed slightly.

"Rose!" a deep voice from several bookshelves away called. "It's getting time to go."

"Coming, Dad!" she called loudly, composing herself.

"Stay here," she whispered to him. "I'll be right back."

Scorpius nodded, only half listening to what she said. He was reeling in the success of his plan. They had only gotten to talk to each other for a few minutes, but there were so many things he wanted to talk to her about. Books and music for one thing, but also about other stuff. He looked forward to letters filled with her complaints about her rowdy little brother, which he would reply that Hugo was better than having two fat girl cousins that forced him to play tea party and pinched him without fear of reproach if he refused. Most of all it would be nice to have someone else on his level to talk to, especially about stuff he couldn't tell his parents. He even figured he could ask her some of his burning questions about Muggles, questions that no matter how tolerant his father had worked to become he would never dare ask.

Scorpius wandered back to the lobby, ready to exchange addresses and ensure she actually bought the book. Indeed he saw Rose with the tall redheaded man and the boy who had bumped into him over by the cash register. He raised his hand to wave, ready to call out to her, when the door crashed open violently. His father burst into the room swiftly, his glabella practically nonexistent as his eyebrows were so closely knit together. He did not look happy.

"Scorpius, it's time to leave!" he decreed angrily, looking around for his son. Scorpius took a step behind the book case.

"Can't you go anywhere without making a scene, Malfoy?" the redhead man asked. Apparently the door had swung open so hard it nearly knocked Hugo to the ground. Draco turned to Rose's dad, and the look of annoyance on his face shifted over to malice.

"I would not test my patience today, Weasley," his father spat.

"Weasley?" Scorpius whispered, his eyes widening as the weight of the situation began to sink in.

"Fine, I won't keep you long than," Mr. Weasley said firmly. "Just apologize for nearly hitting my son and we'll let you on your way."

"Dad," Rose urged, tugging on her father's sleeve. Ron paid no mind, his eyes locked upon Draco's.

"Well maybe if his father had given him enough sense not to play behind the doorway he wouldn't run the risk of being hit, now would he?" Draco sneered, gripping his walking stick firmly.

"Don't you talk to my son like that!" Mr. Weasley snapped, marching over to Scorpius' father.

"I didn't want to talk to him at all!" Draco hissed, "but as always you are determined to put your hideously long nose in places that it doesn't belong!"

The events that occurred in the next five seconds happened so rapidly, upon retrospect Scorpius couldn't believe his reflexes. He watched his father begin to pull his wand out of his walking stick while Mr. Weasley simultaneously reached in his back pocket for his. The man behind the register started to run around, intent on stopping the school boy brawl between the two prominent men. Hugo jumped up and down, cheering his father on. And Rose looked horrified, moving her gaze from her soon to be dueling father straight to where Scorpius stood.

"Dad, no!" Scorpius yelled, throwing his arm out in panic. Without further warning and with no instantly foreseeable cause, Draco and Ron were both thrown backwards as they still reached for their wands. Scorpius' father landed with a thud into one of the empty armchairs, the seat scooting back an extra couple of feet due to the impact. Mr. Weasley was thrown into a display of stacked books, and they spilled to the floor as he landed roughly against the table.

"Dad!" Rose and Hugo cried as they ran across the store to their father. Scorpius stood in shock, looking determinedly at his hand.

"Did I just do that?" he asked himself, though he already knew the answer. He had felt the surge go through him as he cried for the fight to stop. He had never done such powerful magic as to throw two grown men across the room. But then again, he had never felt so panicked and crestfallen either.

He heard his father grown as he rose to his feet, quickly snapping Scorpius to attention. He saw his father's walking stick lying on the floor, his wand drawn from the top. Scorpius rushed to pick the two pieces up and carried him to his father.

"There you are!" his father hissed, snatching his wand out of his son's hands and grabbing the scruff of his robe. "We're leaving this instant."

Scorpius tried to get one last look at Rose before his father dragged him out of the store, but she was too intent on making sure her dad was okay to look around. Perhaps that was for the best, he thought. He had no idea what he would say to her.

His father let go of him while they were out on the street, and Scorpius was dimly aware that he was being yelled at. Scorpius didn't bother to listen, and as the rain began to fall more heavily, he reflected inwardly to stew on his own.

A Weasley? How could that have happened? All his life he had heard about them, positively from the news and modern history books, not so glamorously from his father. Scorpius knew the tumultuous past their families shared, and as he recounted it he shuddered. He had seen and been verbally attacked by those who had suffered at the hands of his grandfather's, and to a small extent his own father's, doings. He understood why they were upset but felt rather little sympathy for them when they turned on him. He had had nothing to do with it, and his father had been a seventeen year old prat when the war had taken place and had never found it in him to kill anyone. His grandfather and his company was a different story, but even than he doubted if Lucius would dirty his hands with murder. Scorpius had always accepted the buried skeletons in his family's closet, and had been more concerned with where his family was headed than where they had been.

But now? Now he felt ashamed. The look of terror on Rose's face was burned into his memory. How could she ever forgive him for being born into a family that had tortured her mother and tried to exterminate her father and uncles? It didn't matter what his father had done since the war ended, he was forever and rightly a fiend in Weasley eyes. For the first time in his life Scorpius wished he were someone else, wished that he didn't look just like the man in front of him muttering incoherently about all the fools in the world, and that his surname wasn't Malfoy. He felt that he had just lost out on something wonderful because of it.

"Scorpius!" a loud whisper called from out behind him. Scorpius turned around quickly, and saw Rose standing on the covered stoop of a small shop that had been closed for renovation. She motioned for him to come join her. Without a thought he left his father and ran over to her. She was drenched wet and fresh mud covered her jeans as though she had run without worrying about puddles to catch up with him.

"Rose!" he expressed desperately. "Rosie I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt your dad, honest! I was just trying…"

"I know, I saw your face," she interjected. "And it's probably a good thing you did. Who knows what they would have done to one another if you hadn't." She handed out his black book that he had left behind for him to take.

"I didn't realize," he tried to explain as he took it from her.

"That I was the daughter of Ron Weasley?" she asked, face stoic.

"Yeah," Scorpius agreed. "Not that any of that matters to me. I don't believe in any of that pureblood rubbish or keep grudges just because my family does."

"I knew," Rose admitted softly.

"That I was a Malfoy?" Scorpius asked incredulously. "How?"

"I recognized your name. Scorpius isn't very common after all. And I've seen pictures of your Dad in magazines. You look just like him," she explained.

"Rosie I'm so sorry," he began desperately. But then something hit him.

"Wait, you knew and you still kept talking to me?" he asked, hope and curiosity entwining in his voice. Rose smiled.

"Three things," she replied, holding out her fingers. "First, I had already told you my mother was a Muggle-born and you didn't snub me. Secondly, you seemed to like Muggles regardless of the prejudices your grandfather instilled…"

"I don't ever talk to him," Scorpius insisted. "Neither does my father. And Dad isn't normally so rough. He was just already irritated and he does stupid things when he's angry, especially when my mother isn't around to knock some…" He was interrupted by Rose placing her last counting finger up against his lips to silence him.

"And thirdly," she finished, a mischievous smile plastered on her face. "We were in a bookstore. It seemed wrong of me to judge you based on your cover." Scorpius smiled back and barked out a relieved laugh. She didn't hate him! She still wanted to be friends!

But his pure jubilation faltered when reality sunk in.

"I guess we can't exchange addresses, huh?" he stated disheartedly. Rosie sighed unhappily.

"No, I suppose not," she agreed sadly. But a small smile quickly returned to her face. "But there is one thing I can give you."

"What's that?" Scorpius asked, trying to push aside the crushed feeling. Rose boldly took a step forward and cupped his face.

"This," she said simply. And before he knew it she pressed her lips against his softly. He felt his stomach flip and his heart raced faster that his broom. He stood in momentary shock, but quickly shook that feeling off. She may have initiated their stance, but he felt her hesitance and inexperience. Taking control of situations was his forte, and he deepened the kiss slightly and placed his hands securely on her waist. It lasted only seconds, but when they broke away he continued to feel the tingling sensation on his lips.

"Verona!" she gasped through a ragged breath, taking a few steps back.

"Huh?" Scorpius asked, stunned at the event and unsure of what she was talking about. Rose grinned.

"The name of the heroine from _Starcrossed_," she explained eagerly. "Her name is Verona. I got the book six weeks ago for my ninth birthday. I've already read it three times. It's my favorite."

Scorpius stared at her in disbelief before running his hands through his hair and throwing his head back. He felt like laughing hysterically, which he did, and crying uncontrollably, which he somehow managed to avoid. Rose to laughed along with him, but he saw a tear well up in her eye.

"You weren't kidding about the impetuous thing, were you?" Scorpius finally asked.

"Nope," she replied with a smile. The two stared at one another for a few more moments.

"Rose!" a voice called from the distance, shaking the two out of their trance.

"I'd better go," she said reluctantly, looking down at her feet.

"Yeah," Scorpius replied, determined to keep himself together. They stood in silence for another passing moment.

"See you on the train?" she asked hopefully.

"Yeah," he repeated again, this time with a little more spring. "Yeah, definitely."

"Good!" she grinned, before spinning on her heel and running out into the rain. Scorpius remained behind, watching her until she ran out of sight. He couldn't believe what had just happened! Not only had she not cared who he was, but she had kissed him. And what a kiss! Not that he had any others to compare it to. But he did know that the feeling of her lips on his felt better than catching the Snitch ever did.

"Dammit, Scorpius!" his father's voice cursed as he searched the deserted Alley in the rain. "Shit, where the hell are you? Do I need to tie a ruddy bell around your neck like a bloody cat?"

"I'm here, Dad!" Scorpius exclaimed, running to his father's side. "I forgot my book in the store."

"What have we told you about just running off?" his father asked irately, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I told you I was leaving," Scorpius made up quickly. "You responded so I thought you heard me." Scorpius knew how wrapped up his father got when he ranted.

"Oh," his father responded, searching his memory. He then returned to chiding Scorpius anyways, as he needed some sort of focus for his frustration. Scorpius paid him no mind and returned his thoughts back to the events of the last hour.

"Scorpius, are you listening to me?" Draco demanded huffily.

"Two years isn't that long of a wait," Scorpius voiced out loud.

"Two years… what in the blazes are you talking about?" his father inquired.

"Uh… just that two years isn't that long of a time… to wait," Scorpius replied, unaware that he had spoken his thoughts out loud. Draco looked down at his son, a mix of confused annoyance and worry on his face. He took the back of his hand and placed it on Scorpius' forehead, checking for a fever.

"Sometimes I worry about you, boy," Draco stated, shaking his head and walking back towards the exit of the Alley. The rain just began to let up and the sun peaked out of the clouds. Scorpius suddenly felt a wave of affection for his father hit him. Sure the man had made mistakes, some of which not only haunted himself but his son. But Draco Malfoy had realized this long ago, and had taken proactive steps in the world to make life for his son as good as possible. And seeing as how the daughter of one of his sworn enemies deemed him good enough to kiss, Scorpius conceded that his father had done a good enough job.

He ran to his retreating father and leapt up on to his back, swinging his arms around his neck.

"Hey Dad, tell me all the things you plan to do to Coddsley to make him pay for his mess up?" Scorpius asked through his father's grunt.

"Oh, it will be glorious!" his father assured, shifting his son up so he could ride more securely on his back. "That useless sucker will wish he had never been born before I'm through with him. In fact, I think if he survives he might merit himself a promotion…"

Scorpius listened happily as his father over embellished the schemes in which he was determined to make his clerk's life miserable. He laughed at how clever and imaginative his father was, and that he too had inherited a gift for such things. He believed it were these traits that he received from his father that had made Rosie like him as much as she did. Scorpius smiled as he rested his head affectionately on top of his father's.

It's good to be a Malfoy.

_(A/N: OMG, I can't believe I actually finished a story! I really hope you liked it! I know they both act a little maturely for their ages, but keep it in the context that Scorpius is only a year younger than Harry was in the first book and that Rose is Hermione's daughter. If you like my Malfoy depictions I plan to write a Draco/Astoria story called "Dirty Little Secret". It'll explain a lot about the family and Scorpius that I only slightly eluded to here.) _


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